I Love You, Hakuba Saguru
by Procrastinating Penguin
Summary: 30 ficlets revolving the love life of our beloved Hakuba Saguru. Crack. Mostly //Hakuba x Akako.// Chapter Two: She was heartbroken. Shattered. Lost. And mad. Yes. Very, very mad.
1. I Do

**I Love You, Hakuba Saguru**

**One: A Modest Proposal**

_Disclaimer: Do not own. Could you imagine if I did? The poor things…_

He was going to pop The Question.

Hakuba Saguru was not a man of skittish nerves. Fathered by the head of the London Metropolitan police force, he was more than acquainted with the abhorrence of human nature – whether it be the utter disarray left behind by tactless burglars or the slain bodies and left to rot on the blood-soaked floor. He had probed in his fair share of orifices (all in the name of science, of course). Seen, smelled, even tasted various unidentified substances that might serve as a potential clue – the_ lengths_ he would go to crack a case. As far as a detective went, he was fearless. Audacious. Bold. And - dared he dream - perhaps a bit of a daredevil blood in his veins as well?

All of which, before his love Koizumi Akako, simply vaporized into thin air.

Hakuba glanced to his left; the head of wine-red hair lazily bobbing besides him.

They were strolling by the seaside, the wind salty and scratchy against his cheeks. Even the shape of her head was _beautiful_ - he thought, observing with quiet awe: it was remarkable how the sea wind lashed at him, tossing his hair, flares of his trousers, jacket, and tie in all directions without the least regard and only seemed to caress her svelte silhouette with the gentlest hands, going only as far as rippling her black dress in against her pale shins. He was fortunate that it was night – he could only imagine the mess he must look. God forbid his hair ever resemble Kuroba Kaito's.

"A candlelit dinner - what are you, _fifty_?"

He could still hear the young thief's voice scoffing in his ear. It had been two weeks ago. After bombarding his high school nemesis three days straight with non-stop phone calls and playing the "I-really-miss-my-old-friends" card on his fiancée, Kuroba Kaito had finally agreed to meet him for a cup of coffee. Dressed in a simple white sweater and faded jeans, jet-black hair still as bedraggled as ever, Kaito had slumped back in his chair, one hand toying with a half-opened packet of sugar. A sweet pillar of steam curled from his mug of hot chocolate.

"There's a little thing called 21st century, Hakuba, women don't exactly want their men to play the ukulele and croon about their tightening slacks in the middle of the night."

Hakuba flinched. "Do you have to be so crude, Kuroba?"

"Well, gee - I don't know," Kaito reached over and plucked two more sugar packets from the dispenser, tearing them open with a savage vigour. "I guess I just wasn't in the mood to thumb through the Old Fogey's Dictionary of Fancy-Schmacy Fart-Speak. I get a little upset when the only day of the week I get to see my fiancée is hijacked by someone I don't really care for."

The half-Brit detective pursed his lips. "The feeling is very much mutual, I assure you." He took a sip of his own black coffee. Kaito was tearing open his fifth packet of sugar, dumping the white crystals straight into his drink, not even bothering to give it a stir before reaching for his sixth sachet. Hakuba suppressed a sigh. "Look, Kuroba, this is very important for me. I wouldn't have disturbed you had I another choice."

"Uh-huh."

"I just need some advice." Hakuba cleared his throat. "How did you propose to Nakamori-san?"

There was a brief pause as Kaito peered thoughtfully into his cocoa. "I don't know," he said finally, glancing up and meeting Hakuba's eyes dead-on. "I just said what I really felt. I love Aoko. I care for her. I can't see myself spending my life with anyone else. I don't want to see myself spending my life with anyone else."

"Hm," Hakuba must have let the incredulousness show on his face. Tilting forward on his chair, Kaito braced one hand under his chin as his brows knotted in a rare display of solemnity.

"Candlelit dinner - fireworks, diamond ring hidden in the lamb chop – you can take the fancy hogwash as far as you like. But it's really down to the confession. Talk about what you really feel. Sometimes less is more, you know."

"What exactly _did_ you say?"

Kaito picked up the small pitcher of honey. Hakuba was beginning to suspect that the man wasn't planning on drinking the concoction at all.

"Not much," the thief said airily. "Just... stuff. Sentimental things."

"'I love you?'" Hakuba prompted.

A ghost of a smirk tugged at Kaito's lips. "Oh, c'mon, you could do better than that."

"'You're my one and only.'"

"Cliché," the blue-eyed man clicked his tongue. "Try to be more original. Heart-felt, but not something that goes back to the fifties."

Hakuba drew in a deep breath. "'If 999 roses mean eternal and everlasting love, I would spend 999 nights to de-thorn each and every one of them just to so eternity would stretch on a little longer.'"

"It would take you a whole day to de-horn _one_ rose?" Kaito's asked, amused - then, seeing the look on Hakuba's face, he stopped himself and grinned. "Well, go on. I think we're onto something here."

"Er..." Hakuba racked his brain, dimly recalling passages from his mother's romance novels that he had happened upon as a child. "'You are the light of my life. Before you, I have never known the night is so dark and cold'?"

"Uh-huh," Kaito purred, the Cheshire cat grin blossoming into full bloom. "Nice. But I think Koizumi might need more than that."

Hakuba drew in a rattling breath. Not that he wasn't attuned to the fancies of the opposite sex – he knew his way around the ladies - but to draw purple prose from thin air and maiming words in such a way that actually made him slightly nauseous, it required somewhat of a snake-oil salesman's charm to pull it off.

"'I can't live without you. You are my light, my sun, my stars, my moon. When you smirk, I feel like God has parted the clouds above and let the light pour forth into my life. Each and every day I think of you. Even though you have not extend such an offer as of yet, I would imagine no greater joy than waking up next your angelic - (Kaito choked on a snort, to which Hakuba silenced instantly with a death glare) - face each morning. I... love you. Will you marry me?'"

There. He said it. Hakuba could feel the tension seeping from his limbs. Kaito was grinning.

"What was that again?"

"Will you marry me," Hakuba echoed.

Kaito cocked his head to one side, one hand casually gesturing to the distant done of conversation flowing around them. "Sorry, I didn't catch that last part."

"'Will you marry -'"

"I - can't - hear - you -" Kaito mouthed, shaking his head.

"I SAID - WILL YOU MARRY ME, KUROBA!"

The voices died instantly. The cappuccino machine gave an ominous rattle - then fell silent as well. Hakuba, suddenly aware that he was on his feet, felt the colour drain from his face as a dozen pair of eyes instantly veered in his direction.

"Well, I don't know, Hakuba," Kaito said wistfully, his face sloping downward in a tortured frown. "What would your wife and three kids think?" With a heavy sigh, Kaito pushed back from his chair, took the mug, drained the hot chocolate in one gulp – (Hakuba had a sudden urge at wrapping his hands around the Adam's apple bobbing up and down) - licked the last of the sugar from his lips, and then set the cup back down on the table.

"Thank you for the hot chocolate, _anata_," grinning, Kaito brushed right past the half-Brit detective, slapping one nonchalant hand on the rigid shoulder. "And no, I'm already taken. Better luck next time, Hakuba."

For the first time in his life, Hakuba contemplated the possibility of a perfect crime.

Fortunately, the humiliation was not in vain. Contrary to what the smug thief believed, Hakuba had sought his advice with every intention of _not_ following it. He knew better now. After the incident with the spaghetti trick, Hakuba knew that the real wisdom laid not in what Kaito did, but what the man _didn't_ do. The man was obviously insane, so to do the exact opposite what he did was evidently the real road to success.

Hakuba felt his hand wonder to his breast pocket, where a certain silk-lined box pulsed – as if it had a heartbeat of its own – against his chest. He had gone through great pains to ensure the evening went on flawlessly. He had made a reservation at the most sought-after restaurant in Tokyo, a place so exclusive that even a ten-thousand bill slipped discreetly into the maitre d's hand wouldn't get so much as a toilet seat in the house. Soft, romantic music permeated the room as they dined. He had made sure not a note was off-key, their waiter's moustache nicely groomed, the salad tossed to his standard - every leaf had to be evenly coated in dressing _or else._ Had he not been known to tip with great generousity, Hakuba would have expected the chef to spit in their soup.

(Come to think of it... the broth was a little thicker more than usual - )

"- Saguru?"

At the sound of Akako's voice - cool but smooth like a tall drink of water - Hakuba felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach.

"Er - yes?"

"You look distracted," Akako said thoughtfully, her eyes sweeping over him. "Are you feeling ill?"

"Er - no, no, I'm fine. Great, really." He chuckled lightly.

"You seem really tired," she observed. "Have you been sleeping well?"

To be frank - in between deciphering the latest KID's note, the murder cases, and the daily bedtime reading of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" and the plethora of glossy magazine that supposedly gave insight into HerMind and 101 Things That Turn Her On, Hakuba was fortunate to catch a couple of hours of snooze each night. But that didn't matter. Sleep was a triviality - he had much more important things at stake.

Hakuba let out a carefree laugh - cut off quite abruptly as the wind smacked his tie right onto his face. "Of course. I'm fine."

"Hm." Akako did not sound convinced, but didn't press on. Silence lapsed between them. Swallowing the knot in his throat, Hakuba reached out and seized her pale hands in his. Surprised, she turned to look at him.

"Saguru -"

"Akako," Hakuba called softly, trailing his one free hand down the arc of her cheek. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the moonlight?"

For a second the red-haired woman looked stunned - then horrified - suspicious - then stunned again. "Um," she paused. "Thank you."

His heart was racing. In the darkness Hakuba couldn't tell if Akako was blushing or not. He peered into her eyes - as soulfully as he could into the "deep, dark depths of her mind and heart" - just as the magazines had specifically instructed. He could only guess that that was somewhere within the proximity of her pupils.

"Akako," he paused again. Behind them, the waves nipped at the shore in quiet splashes. "I... I've never felt this way before." Hakuba felt his cheeks heat up. Levelling his voice the best he could, he tightened his grip on her hand. "Whenever you come into a room, my eyes are drawn you like bees on honey. You are the falling star that streakes across the sky. You banish the darkness of my night. You smile is as radiant as the sun. You are all the light I need."

"Saguru-"

"I guess what I'm trying to say it this - " Gently, Hakuba unthreaded his hand from hers and got onto one knee. He took out the small box from his pocket, flicking it open with a sharp _click_. The diamond sparkled brightly in the night. He could see its twinkle reflected in her dark red eyes. Stunned, the woman held one hand to her face. Hakuba felt his heart race even faster - _this was it_. Months of preparation... weeks of planning, days of agonizing over book after book of romance novels and lurid magazines -

"Koizumi Akako."

"Yes?" Her voice was no more than a whisper.

"You and me," Hakuba said slowly. "Equals forever, baby."

There was a heartbeat of silence. The ocean waves continued lapping at the sandy shores behind them.

Then - a stifled snort, and Akako suddenly burst into laughter. Her voice tinkling like bells in the night. Bent over, Akako clutched at her heaving stomach, laughing so hard her whole body shook. "Oh, God - Saguru," wiping a tear from her eye, the witch straightened up. "You... you are simply priceless."

Flabbergasted, Hakuba froze as she leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek. Still smiling, Akako tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stepped back. "It's late, perhaps we should call it a night?"

Hakuba let out a noise that was halfway between assent and a gurgle.

Humming quietly to herself, Akako turned and began retracing their footsteps on the beach, back toward where they parked the car. Hakuba was rooted to the spot. It was all he could do to watch that beautiful waterfall of dark red hair sashaying on the lithe shadow, fading more and more into the night.

Hakuba began contemplating the possibility of living out the rest of his life in a cardboard box.

**A/n:** **I don't think what I was thinking when I wrote this. Obviously something very terrible - as I totally messed with Hakuba. Again. But I love him. I really do.**

**Stay tuned for more dish on Hakuba's love life! As mentioned, it would probably be mostly Hakuba/Akako (because who can resist?). Some crack. More randomness. Absolutely nonsense. Guaranteed.**

***flees before getting killed by Hakuba***

**And as always ~ review and tell me what you think! XD Happy Reading!**


	2. When She's Mad

**Two: When She's Mad**

_Disclaimer: Do not own._

The blade was cold against her flesh.

It was morning. Tentatively, the first light of the day stole in through the blinds, bathing the tiles in a tired grey light. Here, she could still detect his scent. A trace of cologne mixed with something else. A subtle muskiness that, despite the years of experience in dabbling in potions and perfumes alike, stealthily escaped recognition. She closed her eyes, letting the ghost of him caress her cheeks, her skin, her senses.

It was... it was -

It was the scent of twilight, his cheek against her hair, her fingers against his skin, raking a pallid path down the uneven landscape of his chest, his breath warm, so warm - his voice low, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. Her lips curled up in a sleepy smile.

It was -

the scent of winter. Sitting across each other by the fireplace; the fire crackling, his face fractured by the flickering shadows. A glass of wine in hand. A deliciously thick book in lap. Savouring each other's company. Outside, it was snowing. And as the sky darkened, the tick-tick-ticking of the grandfather clock slurring to one single, monotonous note, she could feel his mind began to wonder. Feeling... no, _knowing_, that his eyes had long lost interest of the book. Reading, now, the lines of her body instead. Drinking in her eyes (she had to force down a knowing smile, fighting to keep her eyes on the page), her nose, her neck, her collarbone...

It was the scent of _him_.

Akako slid one careful finger across the razor blade. Just one morning ago it had been on his flesh. The coolness of the metal as sure as a day ago as it was now. Morning after morning, the dip in the bed, the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. With a few fluid, measured strokes the blade had grazed against the stubborn stubble of his jaw. Soft, bare flesh prepped for her feathery kisses.

Akako opened her eyes.

He was gone.

"Mistress, are you all right?"

The heavy footsteps paused outside the door.

With a sigh, Akako gathered herself from the edge of the bathtub. Running one hand through her perfect (_what else?)_ red tresses, she went to the door and slid it open.

"Mistress -"

"Here you go, Oni." The razor blade was slipped into the ogre's hand so slickly that the servant blinked, unable to comprehend the gift.

"Mistress, isn't this Master Hakuba's -"

"Oh, no, of course not," Akako said airily. "From now on, it will be your personal leg hair remover."

**A/n: I have no idea what Akako's servant's name is... so being the absolutely creative person that I am, he shall be known as "Oni" (ogre).**

**And yes, Hakuba was kicked out of the house. But more on that later. I'm evil. =D**

**Happy Reading~!**


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